


Uncharted Waters

by meridian_rose (meridianrose)



Category: Da Vinci's Demons
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 03, Canon Bisexual Character, Leo is a good man but a terrible friend, M/M, Multi, Period-Typical Homophobia, Polyamory, Riario isn't brainwashed, Vanessa is the shipper queen, Vanessa ships leoaster, everybody loves Leonardo, leario - Freeform, leoaster, vanessa ships leario
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 22:29:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5433152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianrose/pseuds/meridian_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somehow, something seems to have happened to make Leo irresistible, and soon he's juggling a relationship with Zo, a fledging relationship with Riario, his friendship with Nico and Vanessa, and his work. Something has to give, unless he can find a way to keep everyone happy…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uncharted Waters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unsettled](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsettled/gifts).



> IDEK when this is set; I'm tagging it as 'alternate season three' so while Vanessa is regent, Riario never returned to Rome and so isn't brainwashed and I guess the Turkish invasion hasn't happened (yet?). Basically everyone is happily living in Florence, or at least as happy as they ever get to be!  
>  ~~Beta reader credit and further tags to be added post reveal.~~  
>  Beta read by the amazing zeph317 who pointed out my errors and gave my suggestions to improve the overall flow; would recommend their services, A+ service :) Any remaining errors are my responsibility.  
> Thank you Yuletide recipient for prompting this fandom and offering so many ship possibilities in your request! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Leo wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened but he knew it began something like this.

One evening he and Zo were a little drunk and a lot happy, and a “Good night” turned into a goodnight kiss.

“Zo,” Leo whispered, and he wasn’t sure if it was in awe (partly, definitely, awe) or meant as a warning (we shouldn’t, I can’t lose your friendship and my relationships never last, you know that).

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Zo said, and Leo suspected it had been about as long as he’d wanted to kiss Zo, if only the moment had ever been right or the risk of ruining their friendship had not been so great.

“Then maybe you ought to do it again,” Leo said, though some part of his always-active brain was insisting it was Leo who had initiated the first kiss, even while other parts were shouting it down.

The next kiss was longer, softer, utterly delightful.

“Well?” Zo asked.

“Fuck me,” Leo breathed, and Zo took it as the invitation it was.

Which might have been an acceptable adjustment to Leo’s life. Different but not necessarily more complicated. Unfortunately for Leo, his life was never destined to run so smoothly.

#

Riario was being Riario, that combination of politeness and snide comments that made Leo want to punch him in the face or, sad to say, silence him by kissing those sensuous lips. Part of Leo was always fantasising about pulling the count off his high horse – literally if need be – and showing him how commoners had fun. It was regrettable only because Riario was not as flexible when it came to gender as Leo was. In fact, when it came to sex, Riario didn’t seem flexible at all. So fantasy was all Leo ever expected to have, though his imagination was so extraordinarily vivid that it was almost as good as the real thing.

Leo would have been happier that Riario had taken his advice, and not returned to Rome, if Riario were not making such a damn nuisance of himself. He'd appointed himself some sort of diplomatic liaison, which seemed to involve taking advantage of nobles in lieu of him being paid by the Church. It also involved lots of speeches about Florence's depravity.

This particular day though, standing near the entrance to Leo’s studio, Riario seemed to run out of steam halfway through some intellectually clever speech about how Leo was Wrong About Everything and Riario was Right Because God. Leo stared at him for a moment, generously giving Riario a chance to recover rather than interrupt as was his wont.

“I no longer even believe this myself,” Riario said and there was a haunted look in his eyes. His fingers strayed to his neck, as if caressing the crucifix hidden beneath his buttoned up jacket.

Leo, whose own shirt was hanging open as usual, had calculated how many buttons there were on Riario’s jacket and precisely how long it would take him to undo them with his teeth. He tipped his head, trying to focus on what Riario was saying.

“I had faith instilled in me from a young age,” Riario said softly. “Beaten into me, on a few occasions. This is the only life I have ever known; a servant of faith. What does one do, when that faith is lost?”

Leo advanced slowly, steadily. “You don’t believe in God?”

One shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I am no longer sure. And if that is in doubt, who am I to follow the Pope and his will?” Riario gave a bitter smile. “Who am I to condemn you for following your passions?”

“You mean my art?” Leo asked, and he was so close now that he could almost feel Riario’s breath on his cheek.

Zo smelled like smoke and ale and spices, and tasted earthy and warm. Leo thought Riario ought to smell like incense and taste like communion wine, and he wanted so much to find out. He touched Riario’s arm and the count did not pull away.

“Or do you mean my deviant acts?” Leo murmured, fingers caressing the rich material of Riario’s sleeve. He delighted in watching Riario swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing, knowing it was in response to his touch. What pleasure he could show Riario if this was what such chaste affection could provoke! If only Riario would allow him the opportunity.

Riario lowered his gaze. “I am not the one who arrested you for sodomy,” he pointed out, voice husky.

“True, Girolamo.” Leo clasped Riario’s wrist, making Riario glance up at him, startled. “I never wanted you to lose your faith. I’m searching for truth, the same as you. I don’t like to see you like this.”

“Like what?” Riario asked, making no move to pull from Leo’s grasp.

Hurting? Broken? Suffering? Though if he were honest, the vulnerability Riario was displaying, the depth of emotion in those warm brown eyes, was incredibly attractive.

“Lost,” Leo said. Yes, that was it. Riario without his self-righteousness was desirable, but Riario without his self-confidence was not really Riario. Leo was used to unpredictability; he thrived on it. Riario however needed something to cling to, to believe in, and religion had served that purpose.

“It’s all right to challenge your beliefs,” Leo said, when Riario didn’t respond. He slid his thumb down into Riario’s palm and folded his fingers around Riario’s. “But you don’t have to give them all up.”

“No?”

“Only those that can be proven to be false,” Leo said. “Only those that no longer serve you.”

“Did you have a particular one in mind?” Riario asked, voice huskier than ever.

“This one,” Leo replied without hesitation, leaning in and claiming Riario’s mouth.

When Leo drew back, he waited to see how Riario reacted. Riario still did not pull away. He did not curse nor look disgusted, but rather his lips quirked into a wry smile.

“Is that what I’ve been missing all this time, _artista_?”

Leo grinned at the moniker. “That and so much more.”

Riario lifted Leo’s hand to his mouth, kissed at the knuckles. Such a chaste, gentlemanly gesture, but it made Leo’s knees weaken. “One sin at a time,” Riario said.

“I thought it wasn’t a sin now?”

“I thought I was allowed to choose what I believe.” Riario released him, and inclined his head. “Good night, _artista_.”

“Count.” Leo watched him go and let out a deep sigh of frustration. Where the hell was Zo when he needed him? Shaking his head, Leo rammed one hand into his pants, seeking the release Riario had, for the moment, denied him.

#

Zo fell into his arms the next night, and Leo exhausted them both with his passion and inventiveness in the bedroom.

Afterwards, lying in the candlelight, both sweaty and stinking of sex, with Leo’s hair in disarray and Zo’s lips swollen from Leo’s rather excessive attention to them, Leo took Zo’s hand and kissed at his knuckles. Zo pulled his hand away.

“Don’t be weird, Leo,” he chided, adding, “weirder than normal, I mean.”

Leo kissed his cheek instead, hiding his disappointment, and rolled, naked, out of bed. “I’ll get more wine,” he said, wandering off on his errand. It wasn’t fair to compare Zo to Riario or vice versa. Yet Leo wondered if that was his problem. It seemed that he could never have everything he wanted in one package, in one person. 

He had Zo – his dear friend, his trusted companion, a man he loved, someone who was cheery and brash and funny and put up with so much of Leo’s crap it was unbelievable. Yet it still wasn’t enough. Leo wanted Riario too. He adored Riario's intellect and insight, loved watching him shed his aloof nobleman persona and make himself vulnerable, found such delight in their differences that complemented each other.

“What are you thinking about now?” Zo asked later, fingers combing Leo’s hair back from his face as they sat sipping at the wine.

“Flying,” Leo lied.

#

If he hadn’t been so tired Leo might not have been caught napping, but as it was he woke with a blade at his throat. Unable to sit up, Leo blinked the sleep from his eyes and assessed the situation. He was pretty sure one of the sheets of paper was stuck to his face where he’d fallen asleep at his desk yet again, and the inkwell was out of his reach, but maybe he could grab the paintbrush he was certain he’d left nearby and use the wooden shaft as a weapon.

“ _Artista_. You ought to be more careful.” Riario moved the blade and let Leo sit up. “Anyone could walk in here.”

“Well before you came along, most people who might just walk in here weren’t intending to kill me,” Leo said, rubbing at his face.

“You mean before you decided to take Florence’s side against Rome, earning yourself many enemies.”

Leo groaned. “I haven’t the energy to argue. Kill me or don’t, just don’t preach at me.”

“I did not come to argue nor to preach.” Riario sheathed the blade and folded his arms.

“Then what are you doing here?”

Riario hesitated, his composure vanishing. “I am not entirely sure.”

Leo reached out and took his hand, nipping at each knuckle in turn. “More of this?” he asked huskily.

“Perhaps.”

Leo stood and though Riario froze as if expecting a blow, he did not shy away when Leo moved to cup his chin. Leo kissed him, long and slow. Zo didn’t need much seducing, and to be honest, in most of Leo’s fantasies he and Riario had consummated their bond after a verbal and physical sparring match, fucking as much out of hate as desire, a glorious, but never to be repeated affair. But if Riario was going to allow Leo to win him over, then Leo would take his time and breathe softly upon the tiny embers of a potential relationship that would be far more rewarding than a quick fuck.

Leo was good at seduction. He'd seduced a nun before. He could handle Riario.

“We can go as slowly or quickly as you want to,” Leo said. He ran his fingers down Riario’s breastbone, over the softer, vulnerable flesh below, stopping just as he reached Riario’s groin. Riario pressed against him, a tiny movement he might not even be aware of himself, but it was enough encouragement for Leo to kiss him again.

Clothing was removed, slowly and reverently, though only as far as the waist. Leo took his time. He was an artist, he could appreciate the sculpted male body without needing to hurry matters. There was cautious touching as they explored each other’s bodies and boundaries. Riario initiated a few of the kisses as the night wore on, became bolder in his claiming of Leo’s body.

“It’s different,” Leo said, pitching his tone low and comforting. “With a man. But there are many things that are the same. It’s not wrong or more difficult. Just new ways of finding pleasure.”

Riario licked at Leo’s nipple, following up with what was almost a bite. Leo gave a small shriek of surprise.

“No, that was good," he said, when Riario paused, concerned. "Do it again."

Leo was hard by now, they both were, but Riario had reached his limit that night. He dressed quickly, smoothing down his hair before he left. Leo moaned into the pillow and once again finished off what Riario had started.

#

“I haven’t seen you for weeks,” Vanessa said, hands on her hips. Nico stood at her side, mirroring her stance, and he nodded in agreement.

“I’ve been busy.” Leo picked up some papers, a book, put them back down, crouched to look under his desk. “I know I put it somewhere.”

“Leo!”

He jumped, banged his head against the desk, came up rubbing at his skull. “Ow.”

She sighed. “Sorry. But Leo, you said you were doing something dangerous and if we didn’t hear from you then we ought to mourn and move on.”

“Or mount a rescue,” Nico added. “She wanted to send the Florentine guards out to look for you if you weren’t here.”

“I said that?” Leo moved his hand to scrub at his beard. “Right. I thought that was a dream.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes. “You are a terrible friend,” she said, turning on her heel to leave, and it hurt him more than he could explain with ten thousand words or a hundred drawings.

Nico gave a single sharp nod of agreement. “What are you up to lately that we mean so little to you?” he asked.

“Nothing!”

Nico, the little shit, rolled his eyes too, and stalked out after Vanessa. Leo threw himself into his chair and moaned his frustration. This was Zo and Riario’s fault. Every moment he wasn’t working he was spending with one of them. Something had to give, but he hadn’t thought it would be his friendships. He loved Vanessa and Nico. He’d have to make time for them. Tomorrow. Zo was coming over tonight.

#

“ _Artista_ ,” Riario purred. He was standing behind Leo, wrapped around him like a trailing vine on a marble column, his hands roaming over Leo’s chest. He nipped at Leo’s shoulder.

Leo wanted to give in to Riario, who was especially aroused tonight. There was a flush at his cheekbones and some pupil dilation that made him think Riario had downed a few glasses of wine before coming here, probably not enough to be drunk but enough to be flirtatious; whatever helped him get in the mood, Leo thought. 

In fact Leo had some herbal mixture they could smoke, the sort that made sex mind-opening rather than merely mind-blowing, but that was for a later time. He wanted Riario to enjoy and fully recall his first time. Which thought reminded Leo that it would be irresponsible to take advantage of Riario. He had to ask.

“How drunk are you?” he asked, one hand covering Riario’s fingers as they dipped down towards Leo’s navel.

“Drunk? I can recite any passage of scripture you name.”

“Hardly a test for you,” Leo scoffed.

“I only had two glasses,” Riario said. He flicked Leo’s earlobe with his tongue. “One for me, and one for you.”

“I don’t get to enjoy my glass?”

“If you shut up and fuck me you will.”

That single phrase, almost a growl, heated Leo’s blood and he shifted position, turned and pulled Riario close, kissed him hard. “Tell me you want this,” he said, watching Riario’s expression closely.

“I want you,” Riario said with the sort of conviction that belonged to the word “amen”.

Leo kissed, and urged, and guided, and soothed as he took Riario to his bed. This was Riario’s first time with a man and Leo wanted it to be as pleasant as possible.

He’d taken Vanessa’s virginity and sometimes, when they’d had a few drinks and were reminiscing, she’d talk fondly of how gentle he’d been, how good it had been, and how some other men had not measured up. He’d made her first time special, shown her that sex did not have to be a man dominating her to take only his own pleasure, but that she ought to be cherished, she deserved to orgasm too.

Leo was always proud at the praise, though puzzled that some men would care so little for their partner’s pleasure. Sex could be, to Leo, almost an act of worship.

Riario deserved no less than to be cherished and to take pleasure in the sexual act. To be worshipped. Leo could go without orgasm if necessary. It was becoming a common thread in his relationship with Riario, and he could take care of himself later. At this moment all that mattered was that this was not a mistake, that nothing happened to make Riario reconsider giving himself to Leo.

“Yes,” Leo said, and “slower” and “more?” and “faster” and “Oh God!” when he too finally achieved orgasm.

#

After sex, Zo liked to lie back and spread himself out and they’d drink or smoke or both, talking about anything and everything, as was usual in their friendship. It was homely and pleasant. Leo had half-expected Riario to spring out of bed the second he caught his breath and dress like the devil was watching. But, to his surprise and delight, Riario let Leo hold him afterwards, silent as Leo pressed kisses to his hair.

“Are you all right?” Leo asked when the silence became worrisome.

“Yes,” Riario said distantly and then seemed to shake himself awake. “Yes. I was – cataloguing the experience.”

Leo hadn’t thought other people did that. Leo did, cataloguing every experience, sometimes under multiple categories. He hoped the category or labels Riario was filing the experience under were good. “It was mostly pleasant?”

“Yes. Thank you,” Riario said and Leo winced.

“Don’t thank me as if it were a chore,” he said.

“But you were considerate. That deserves thanks.”

Leo kissed his lips this time. “Fair enough. I might not always be so considerate.”

“You do not have to be quite so gentle next time,” Riario said. “I fear I have marked your shoulder while I myself am unblemished.”

Leo examined the love bite. Shit, he didn’t want Zo to see that. It wasn’t that they’d agreed to be monogamous of course, but seeing evidence of Leo sleeping with someone else wasn’t exactly ideal. Especially when that person was Riario. The idea of telling Zo about the fledging affair with Riario wasn’t something that Leo had dared entertain. If Zo knew about it he’d go berserk.

“What. The. Fuck!”

Leo blinked and tried to focus. His imagination had taken over again and he was hallucinating a very angry Zoroaster.

Riario’s fingers dug into Leo’s wrist in fear? Maybe possessiveness? Even anger? Leo blinked again. Wait, Riario was seeing Zo too? This was real? Oh shit, it was Tuesday, shit, shit, _shit_.

“I can explain,” Leo said helplessly.

Zo stared at them with murder in his eyes. “No. You can’t. Fuck you.” He turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Riario relaxed slightly and began to climb out of bed. If he walked away now, Leo would be left alone. People kept yelling at him and leaving him and it wasn’t fair. This was Riario’s fault. No, that wasn’t true, this was Leo’s fault for wanting Riario, for seducing him. Leo covered his face with his hands.

“Is he angry because you are sleeping with the enemy?” Riario asked, once he’d got his pants and boots back on, and was shaking out the creases from his shirt. “Or is he angry that you are cheating on him?”

“Both,” Leo said, lowering his hands with reluctance. There was no point denying it.

“I didn’t realise you and the –”

“Don’t,” Leo warned and Riario nodded.

“You and _Zoroaster_ were such intimate companions.”

“It’s recent. Not long before you.” Somehow, something he’d done a few weeks ago had made Leo suddenly irresistible to both Zo and Riario. It was the only logical explanation, and it meant this was not his fault.

Riario let out a long sigh. “I expected there would be others,” he said. “Just not him.”

“He’s not as bad as you think. Fuck’s sake, I say the same about you to him. What is it about you two?”

Riario shrugged. “You,” he said, fastening his jacket and reaching for his sword. He leaned over and kissed Leo. “The only thing we have in common is you.”

The kiss stopped Leo from spiralling further into despair. Riario had left but not in a hurry. He wasn’t angry. He hadn’t given any indication that he wouldn’t return. He hadn’t called Leo a bad friend or sworn at him. Riario alone was not enough, but if Leo could keep Riario, of all people, then Leo could fix things with the others. He could make this work.

He had to.

#

Leo grinned hopefully, shuffling side to side as Nico and Vanessa pored over the chart.

“It’s inventive,” Nico said finally.

“Oh, Leo,” Vanessa said. “Do you really need all this?”

“I don’t know how else to keep everyone happy,” Leo said. He gestured to the parchment. “This way Zo and you and Nico and Riario all get to spend time with me without anyone getting jealous or left out. And it only made sense to include some nights for you and Nico together since you’re both living at the palace, and some nights where Zo comes out with us all, like old times.”

Riario was always alone on the chart, his initials written in ink as black as the clothing he favoured. Zo was red, vibrant. Nico was blue; Vanessa, green. Some days the red, blue, green all appeared. Various combinations he’d thought of had been planned out with care. Some days were empty, time for Leo to be alone and work on his projects without distraction.

“I just don’t quite understand why Riario needs so much of your time,” Nico said delicately.

Leo chewed at his lip. “We’re, that is I, um, you see he was upset and – didn’t Zo tell you I’m sleeping with Riario?”

Vanessa sat down. Nico stared at him.

“No,” Nico said.

“Did Zo tell you I’m sleeping with him?”

“Yes.”

Leo nodded, getting it straight in his head about who knew what. Things were so complicated. People were complicated. Machinery was easier. You built something and it worked, or if it didn’t you could try to fix it. It was logical. People were messy.

“You think this chart will work?” Nico said and Leo bristled at the scepticism he heard in Nico's tone.

“Of course it will.”

#

Zo counted up all the days until he was certain he got as much one-on-one time with Leo as Riario did, in addition to the times Leo had carved out for communal bonding.

“You’re going to keep on screwing that bastard?”

“Riario. Yes.”

Zo sighed. “Then if this is what it takes to make sure I never again catch you in the act of fucking him, it’s fine with me.”

#

Riario laughed as he traced Leo’s handwriting.

“It is a work of art,” he said. “Is there any flexibility in it?”

“For emergencies,” Leo said.

“We’ll see,” Riario replied.

#

The chart, to everyone’s surprise, (even Leo’s though he’d never admit it) worked well. Not perfectly, but then life was not perfect.

Sometimes Leo would be involved in a project and forget to visit Vanessa and Nico, who could forgive him the occasional slip so long as he wasn’t in danger. Or, if it was a “Riario night”, Riario would bring him food and watch him work, never pushing him for more.

And when Riario showed up one night when it was Zo’s turn, wild-eyed and covered in blood that was not his own, Zo did not complain. In fact while Leo tried to calm Riario and find out what had happened, Zo fetched water and cloths, and a goblet of wine.

But it was one of the Vanessa and Nico nights that proved to provide the most interesting twist so far.

Vanessa had decided to hold a dinner party at the palace. She and Nico would be hosting, and she wanted Zo to come, and for Leo to bring Riario. Leo tried making an excuse, but she called in the debt of all the nights he’d bailed out on her. Leo told her that Riario would never agree and wondered aloud why she would want to sit down with him after everything that had happened between Rome and the Medici family.

“I’m not inviting Rome,” Vanessa said archly. “I’m not inviting the captain general of the Church. I’m inviting Girolamo, one of the men you love.”

Meanwhile Nico went to Riario and was persuasive enough that, while Riario would not disclose the details no matter how much Leo begged, Riario agreed to attend.

Zo protested but Vanessa somehow manipulated him into putting aside his differences.

“Free food is free food,” Zo told Leo, rationalising his presence at the dinner party as he took his seat. “Not to mention free wine.”

Leo expected a retort from Riario but apparently the count was on his best behaviour. Leo was sandwiched between the two men, with Vanessa opposite him and Nico lounging at the head of the table as if he’d been born to rule.

Conversation was stilted for a while but as the evening wore on, and the wine was consumed, and no-one got stabbed, everyone relaxed. To Leo’s chagrin, Zo and Riario ganged up against him to tell tales of his latest exploits to Vanessa who kept shaking her head and saying, “Oh, Leo!” while Nico giggled like he was a child and contributed a few funny stories of his own.

“I suppose we should be going,” Leo said finally.

“Oh, no," Vanessa said. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"There’s a thick fog coming in tonight,” Nico said.

“There is?”

Vanessa nodded fervently. “And you've had rather a lot of wine. I wouldn't want Zo to trip and bang his head again."

Zo scowled. "That happened once. Well, twice. That other time Nico pushed me."

"I did not," Nico protested.

Vanessa cleared her throat. "Besides, it's already after curfew. You wouldn't want to put the regent in the embarrassing position of bailing her guests out of prison tomorrow, would you?"

They all knew she could give them a token to allow them post-curfew passage but no-one dared argue.

"Why don't you just stay here?" Nico suggested.

"We have plenty of rooms," Vanessa agreed. She glared at each one of them in turn, in anticipation of their protests, adding, “I insist.”

The three men exchanged glances and decided it was more than their lives were worth to defy her. In fact Leo didn't want to leave. He just didn't want to push his luck. There was probably a limit to how long Zo and Riario could be in the same room before fighting of the verbal or physical sort broke out.

Vanessa led them upstairs. “There are three rooms here,” she said. Well prepared in advance, Leo noted. What had she got planned?

She gestured. “Zo, take this one.”

Zo threw himself with enthusiasm onto the covers, without so much as taking his boots off. Vanessa led them to the next room. “Riario, I think this will meet with your approval.”

He bowed respectfully. “Thank you, my Lady.”

“And here,” she said, pulling Leo into the final bedchamber, “is a rather magnificent room for you.”

It was indeed magnificent, richly furnished, the most obvious and ostentatious piece of furniture being a huge bed.

“One of Giuliano’s great-great-uncles or someone used to have orgies here,” Vanessa confided, running her fingers over the expensive bedspread with its heavy embroidery. “I hope you won’t get lonely, Leo. Though of course, you don’t have to sleep alone.”

He caught at her waist, hugging her. “You could sleep with me.”

She giggled and kissed his cheek. “Those days are over, Leo. And I think you have enough romantic liaisons to be getting on with.” She pulled away from him. “Maybe Zo could join you. Or perhaps Riario. Or…” She shrugged and gestured at the bed which was large enough to sleep at least four people.

Leo blinked. “Both?”

“Both,” she repeated as if the idea was new to her. “I suppose that would make things easier.”

Leo let out a long breath. “They’d never agree to it.”

“That’s what I thought about your current arrangements. Their love for you leads them into many strange situations; what’s one more?” Vanessa patted his shoulder. "You can use this room whenever you want to," she said, and left the room.

Leo sank onto the bed, lying back and stretching out his arms. It was a very roomy bed.

“Both,” he said again.

It was, he supposed, a possibility.

It would take very careful negotiations with his two lovers.

It would mean redrawing the chart.

Leo grinned.


End file.
